“What the fuck it that?” the hair asked loudly.
“Gunfire,” Hope said as if she had heard the toupee.
“Gunfire?” Donald asked. “What about my Diet Coke?”
“Diet Coke?” the hat yelped. “There’s gunfire in the White House! Get me to my safe room!”
Donald stood up abruptly and his belly knocked Hope over. There was a sickening crunch as her head met the edge of the dresser and she fell to the floor insensate.
“Where’s my DIET COKE?!?” Donald bellowed, stepping over the supine Hope and opening the dressing room door.
“Donald! Come back!” the hair called after him.
The hat had moved to the edge of the desk they were on and was peering over the side. Hope’s skirt had been thrown up around her hips as she fell and her translucent La Perla underwear was on display.
“Hairless, dude,” the hat told the hair. “I think she’s lasered.”
“I find that offensive,” the hair said.
“You would.”
Donald shuffled back into the room, his socks leaving bloody marks on the white carpet. He had a full erection tenting his boxer shorts.
“There’s no Diet Coke out in the hall,” he said despondently.
“Where did that blood come from, Donald?” the hair demanded.
“Dead guy in the hall, totally Cokeless.”
“Donald,” the hair ordered, “Put me on.”
“Me too!” the hat said. “We have to go see what is going on.”
Donald laboriously stepped over the unconscious Hope again and took the hair off its mannequin head and settled it on his own. The hair sank tendrils into his scalp and arranged himself as best he could.
“Pick up the hat, Donald,” the hair told him.
“I don’t want to. I’m sleepy. I want a Diet Coke,” the elderly man complained.
“Fast food coma,” the hat diagnosed. “All that grease has hit his colon.”
“Donald!” the hair shouted, rocking back and forth on his head.
“You’re going to have to drive, dude,” the hat said. “He’s going to be out of it anytime now.”
“He’s so hard to puppet anymore,” the hair whined.
“Oh, shut up,” the hat said.
“It’s like driving a really old broken car with no brake, transmission, steering or wiper fluid. And the car is full of McDonald’s and gout.”
“Bitch and moan, bitch and moan. Pick me up so we can go check out the carnage.”
“Shouldn’t we get Donald to the safe room?” the hair asked.
“Later,” the hat said. “I’m sure it’s all over by now. We’ll just take a peek through one of the gallery windows.”
The hair put the hat on over himself with Donald’s hand and then bent over to strip off the bloody socks. “They feel really weird and gross,” the hair said, anticipating the hat’s question.
The hair moved Donald and the hat as quietly as he could through the darkened corridors of the residence. They found four dead Secret Service agents before they got to the small windows that looked down on the ballroom, all shot in the head from behind.
“This looks bad,” the hat whispered.
“If they got this far into the residence, why didn’t they find us?” the hair asked.
“I don’t know,” the hat answered. “I had never been in that room before. Maybe Hope just set it up or something.”
There was another burst of automatic fire and the hair threw the three of them back against a wall. He slid them toward the window and peeked over the sill.
“Duck down,” the hat hissed. “I can’t see anything.”
“Diet Coke,” Donald mumbled and began to snore.
The hair pushed Donald’s hand against the glass and the bottom swung outward like a transom. The guests in the ballroom were huddled together in a jumbled cluster in the center, mewling and crying, a ring of gunmen in ballcaps ringing them. A squat figure in a power suit and a ballcap waddled toward them, stepping over the bodies of dead Secret Service and DC Police.
“Oh, shit,” the hat began.
“Yeah, it’s her,” the hair said.
“Laydies and genhentleman. Laydies and genhentleman,” Angela said in her thick German accent. “Due to this administration’s legacy of greed around the globe, they are about to be taught a lesson in the real use of power. You will be witnesses.”
“Whut the fuck are you talkin’ ‘bout, you fat slut?” Jeff demanded, his little elf ears red with rage and shaking with fear.
Angela pointed at him and one of the gunmen stepped forward and hit him with the butt of his rifle. Jeff fell like an erection at Lilith Fair.
“Are there any further questions? No? I thought not,” Angela said crisply. When she turned to walk away the hat began to sputter in rage. Her ballcap read “MAKE GERMANY GREAT AGAIN.”
“Euro trash bitch!” the hat managed to spit out.
“Look,” the hair said. “They’re all wearing them.”
Around the arc of the circle of gunman facing them they could see MAKE FRANCE GREAT AGAIN and MAKE FLANDERS GREAT AGAIN and NETHERLANDS and SWEDEN and LUXEMBOURG.
“Most of those countries have never been great!” the hat gasped. “And what the fuck is a Flanders? Is that Simpsons reference?”
“Be quiet,” the hair whispered. “Footsteps. I think someone is coming.”
“Diet Coke,” Donald mumbled in his sleep.
A walkie-talkie crackled from around the corner and there was a burst of foreign gibberish. The hair got Donald down in a crouch as the person briefly answered and then proceeded around the corner. He was armed with a squat machine pistol and a MAKE BASQUE LEGIBLE AGAIN hat. The hair launched the elderly and overweight body from the shadows under the gallery windows and the four of them went down in a violent tangle of limbs and haberdashery. The hair pummeled the gunman with Donald’s sticky fists and shot tendrils into his eyes and ears and nostrils and mouth. MAGA prime bit into brim of BASQUE hat and stripped its adjustable band away savagely. Finally, in a titanic heave, the hair got Donald’s corpulent bulk on top of the gunman and crushed the life out of his body.
“Yeah, take that motherfucker!” the hat growled. “MAGA! MAGA! MAGA!”
Donald’s body was breathing heavily as the hair got him back to his feet.
“Take gun!” the hat said.
“I know that,” the hair replied.
“And the walkie-talkie!”
“I know that too,” the hair said testily. “I know what I’m doing. I killed the guy, after all.”
“Hey, I helped!”
“You molested a hat.”
“Did not!”
“I saw what you did with that adjustable band. Christ, you are a sick fuck, you know?”
“I was fighting for our lives!” the hat said indignantly.
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”
The hair had Donald pick up the gun and tuck it into his boxer short waistband. It promptly slid down his gunt and fell out one of the legs and onto the floor.
“Maybe you better carry that,” the hat said dryly.
The walkie-talkie crackled again.
“Mikolaus?” the voice on the other end asked. “Mikolaus? Txostena.”
“Answer it,” the hat urged.
“I don’t know Basque. Do you know Basque?” the hair asked.
“A little.”
“Bullshit.”
“Just hold the button down, dingleberry.”
The hair had Donald hold the walkie up to the hat and pressed the talk button.
“Zein da neska prezioa?” the hat said and the hair had Donald let go of the button.
“Who is this?” the voice demanded. “Where is Mikolaus?”
“Button,” the hat ordered.
“Olly olly oxen free, cocksucker?” the hat half-asked.
“Oh, goddammit,” the hair moaned.
Jeff fell like an erection at Lilith Fair.
I was still reeling from the revelations about Hope and you hit me with that.
Fucking brilliant.
“La Perla underwear”
I thought was a little unbelievable, though. She strikes me more as an Agent Provocateur kind of gal
Boy oh boy, this is just the cat’s pajamas. I’m already excited for HAT HARD 2: HAT HARDER and HAT HARD 3: A GOOD HAIR TO HAT HARD.
Well done, SugarFree, you truly are our poet laureate.
Anything with the word gunt in it gets my approval.
“Jeff fell like an erection at Lilith Fair.”
This kind of writing puts some of the great authors of our day to shame.
Also, need pic of the Hope panties
It disturbs me a little that you and I picked out the same two nuggets in a rather lengthy piece.
Yes, I noticed that after I commented. It’s our Midwestern mentality
I came here to say the same thing and noticed you too reprobates beat me to it. Nice!
That made me laugh harder than the American Psycho references from the previous.
And those were sublime.
https://twitter.com/iowahawkblog/status/940962110879817729
Pretty sure someone at Glibs is Iowa Hawk
Need to narrow it down some. That could describe about 80% of the people here.
Busted.
We’re ALL Iowahawk sock-puppets.
Shut up, Tulpa!
Not I. The attacks against American foreign policy is one of the only saving graces of the Libertarian Party. Dare I say Iowa Hawk is wrong
Well, he did say “occasionally”.
Iowahawk used to comment at TOS, so many he transferred over.
My (hypothetically, as I don’t do twitter) response to him: Revolution, Barbary Pirates and WW2 qualifies as “occasionally”.
This would probably work better as a reply to RC Dean, but I didn’t read down that far.
Barbary Pirates
I’m listening to a book about our fun in the southern Mediterranean, and it’s quite enlightening.
1) forcing regime change ain’t exactly a new thing in American foreign policy
2) what a bumbling set of hayseeds we were back in the day. Took 5 years from the initial declaration of war until we supplied an effective military response.
The war was over in just over 4 years, so that isnt exactly right.
And it leads to an interesting question: Does Congress need to declare war if the enemy has declared war on you? Because Congress never did in that case.
???? super excellent chapter, and quite thrilling ????
My fav:
More SF? It’s Christmas in December!
“The amount of the baby”
Random nonsense, or does Hat have a history?
It’s supposed to be “How much for the little girl?” Stupid Google translate must have Roy Moore filters.
Should have gone with “Zein da neska prezioa?”
Fixing now. I don’t want a bunch of angry Basque people flooding the site.
Those neanderthals take everything so personally!
Great, now you’ve pissed the Glib contingent from Boise.
My mom’s good she got me out of Boise, Idaho.
…. like a scene from “Ten Million Years BC”
One Million Years BC, if you’re thinking of Raquel Welch in a fur bikini.
A Built To Spill reference is always welcome.
“Hope Hicks’ Lasered Vulva” – Dibs on the band name.
*hums a little satisfied tune*
Okay, he said, parading the depth and breadth of his ignorance before the mob. Who’s Hope?
Hope Hicks, the new White House
Press SecretaryCommunications Director.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hope_Hicks
Damn you changed it before I could begin a snide “actually…”
Do you think I want an Angry Sarah Huckabee Sanders haunting my dreams, snacking, her crooked face grimacing as she digests my mind?
Couldn’t she just eat a cake or fix her lipstick?
I assume at some point the weight of your genius will drive you to seek the nihilistic embrace of mental oblivion, but there probably exists better ways of going about it than getting your mind devoured by a shoggoth poorly attempting to parade as a human. Heroin, for instance. That’s been a historical favorite of authors.
Heroin seems like a lot of trouble. I’d probably go for something retro, like ether or laudanum, anyway.
Ah, laudanum… How very cosmopolitan!
Or?
Why limit yourself?
Mostly about pacing myself.
If I were ever to become a self-professed Great Author, I think I’d go the “Opium den” route, and maybe the absinthe.
Ether gives me headaches, but chloral hydrate was fun. Maybe reserve that for weekends.
You’re only allowed to open an opium den if you also use it to subjugate and destroy the lives of several Chinese. The crown has standards that need to be maintained.
I’ll have to see if I have an Chinese orphans ….
Do you think I want an Angry Sarah Huckabee Sanders haunting my dreams, snacking, her crooked face grimacing as she digests my mind?
*looks around nervously*
…….Yeah.
Ah. Okay, then.
She undoubtedly has nicer (and much, much smaller) panties than la Huckabee. I feel somewhat relieved.
Sanders buys her lingerie at Ross, and her everyday panties at Family Dollar.
She looks like a Lane Bryant on clearance kinda gal.
Who cries a little every time she filters for size XXL and everything is sold out.
I saw Cafe Press doesn’t have red hats. But, Custom Ink does. We could bulk order some glorious MAGA Primes! Of course, it can be refined if you people want to do it. Hopefully if you order this the text won’t just float off the hat like the picture.
Why do Hat & Hair stories always show up while I’m eating lunch?
Because that quinoa with falafel salad was destined to end up on your keyboard.
Because you touch yourself at night.
And Baby Jesus and Santa are watching.
It’s the only way I can get off.
Our Lady Riven is wiser than any of you will ever understand.
You sound like a male feminist, dude
Bullshit. She isn’t Latina.
I don’t know why I laugh uncontrollably when someone uses the,” Because you touch yourself at night, ” phrase.
memories?
I have a lady touch me at night. Does that cut me slack or do I need to put a ring on it?
What’s she charge?
My self respect.
Winston’s mom then?
Pure art. My xmas list is complete.
Hat & Hair going full Die Hard! The best Christmas gift I could imagine (or couldn’t – that’s why I’m not a writer).
Pace earlier discussions about the FBI ….
http://dailycaller.com/2017/12/13/fbi-officials-discussed-insurance-policy-against-trump-presidency/
Commentary is superfluous…
So, in addition to all his other faults, Strzok is a cuck. Figures
I don;t watch TV news. Are they pronouncing his name “stroke”?
How can they not re-open the investigations into Hillary after this disclosure that the lead investigators were completely in the tank for her? Plus, there is this, which is certainly consistent with the “conspiracy theory” that DOJ, FBI and the intelligence agencies were colluding with the White House to surveil Trump before the election and to attack him after the election:
“Maybe you’re meant to stay where you are because you’re meant to protect the country from that menace,” Page wrote.
“I can protect our country at many levels, not sure if that helps,” Strzok replied.
I mean, I think I suspect the worst of Our Masters in DC, and then they prove they are even worse than I imagine.
Sounds like the dialog from a knock-off John LeCarre paperback.
So many opinions I would like to express about this situation would likely land this website in serious trouble…
*logs onto HnR*
No matter how cynical you are, it’s hard to keep up.
“We are sworn to defend and uphold the Constitution, and so we shall…unless, you know. I mean, come on.”
“I had my fingers crossed. I actually swore to defend my job and political masters at all costs, the health of the country be damned”
I’d give anything to have the texts and emails between those two, and the opportunity cross-examine them under oath.
“So, Mr. Strozk, when you said that you could protect our country at many levels, were you just posturing for your mistress, or did you have something specific in mind?”
“At any point in your relationship with your mistress, were you bothered by the fact that it was a violation of FBI policy?”
“Would you prefer that I describe Ms. Page as your mistress or your lover?”
I mean, I’d probably need days to really cover all the angles.
Honestly, now that I’ve started this train of thought, I just can’t stop.
“Did you have any pet names for your lover or any of her body parts? What were they?”
“Did your lover have any pet names for you or any of your body parts? What were they?”
OBJECTION!
“Your honor, the nature of the relationship between Mr. Strozk and this person who is not his wife, and specifically his state of mind, are critical to this inquiry. The answers I seek will cast light on this crucial issue”
“Mr. Strzok, do you believe FBI agents have a sense of honor and duty?”
“Do you have a sense of honor and duty? How was your violation of FBI policy consistent with your honor and your duty? Are there any other FBI policies that you have violated? I remind you, you are under oath.”
This is why people hate lawyers… right up until they need one.
My goal would be to finish my examination as the most hated lawyer in America by around 1/3 of the adult population.
Prediction: all those who have been attacking the police (with good reason) will dismiss this or defend the integrity of the FBI (particularly ostensibly ‘libertarian’ commentators)
It sounds to me like more than a few people need to be in prison. Is there an argument that these people are not guilty of sedition cuz I would like to hear it.
This is the sort of bullshit that will probably push me to vote for Trump in 2020. If only because the establishment need to realize that you can’t change the rules or try to subvert the election of democratically elected President because you abhor them. They have no idea how much they are destroying our constitutional republic as a result of their behavior.
Since I live in a deep blue state and it doesn’t matter who gets my vote, I can still vote my conscience.
“Conscience”? Talk like that will cost you your Glibs card, buddy.
I live in the People’s Republic of Illinois, so my vote hasn’t matter since……I started voting.
*nods in empathy*
Not to worry, Ed. After you die, your vote will count. Many times per election.
“My grandparents voted Republican till the day they died, then they started voting Democrat.”
Yeah, I voted for Trump just because any vote for an R gives Illinois D’s the vapors. And in 2020 he might be the only candidate with a shred of integrity.
“Donald Trump is the only candidate with a shred of integrity.”
Ponder that on the Tree of Woe.
(applause)
My two favorite lines.
The hat-on-hat action . . . so hawt.
https://twitter.com/maziehirono/status/940967257794113537
What’s the difference between socialists and Democrats?
No, seriously, this isn’t a riddle
Some good replies:
Any chance you could just go straight to hell instead? Asking for my country.
Can we revoke HI’s statehood?
Two points:
Hirono has never proven she is a sentient life form. I would vote for a sea sponge before I vote for her
Keep HI a state just to piss off the native Hawaiian movement. Seriously, I abhor those idiots.
Socialists are more willing to admit it?
One of the most startling things about these past couple of months is how a lot of Democratic supporters dismissed the accusations against Al Franken. My wife’s cousin was on FB posting about how he was smeared unfairly and what has happened to due process. I wanted to ask her if Franken was a Republican, would she still have this mind frame? And the truth is that she probably wouldn’t.
One of the most problematic aspects of Modern Leftists are how willingly they throw away their principles when it advances their agenda.
I’ll say this- at least Leftists throw away principles to achieve ‘something’. Cosmotarians throw away principles just to be liked, because they have no possibility of achieving ‘anything’.
That’s always been my issue with some of the Libertarians from the other site. What’s the point of throwing away your principles if you’re not even getting anything out of it? These sorts are nothing more than useful idiots who will be discarded as soon as they have outlived their purposes.
Waddayamean, they threw away their principles for nothing? They got gay marriage, didn’t they?
*ducks, runs from chatroom*
You gotta have something to be able to throw it away.
I think a lot of people at the Other Site believe that if they compromise with the Modern Left, they could perhaps get some converts. Compromise is fine and all but the issue is that the Modern Left movement wants to increase government power in every aspect of our lives and that goes against everything we stand for in our philosophy. Gay Marriage is the best example. I would rather the government not be involved in marriage, but if they are, anyone who wants to join in a legal union ought to be able to without the government denying them the ability to do so because of their sexual orientation. That’s it.
The Modern Left wants gay people to get married, but they also want to force individuals and businesses to bake them cake or whatever and even allow the government to arrest people if they dare say that perhaps homosexuality is against their religion or belief system.
The Modern Left you speak of simply never think through any issue beyond the immediate effects.
“35,000 people die in car crashes every year. Studies show that the figure would drop by 2/3 with a national speed limit of 20 MPH.”
“THEN THAT IS WHAT WE MUST DO!!”
“Okay, but people have to get to work, or go out of town; freight is transported across the country-”
“WHY DO YOU WANT PEOPLE TO DIE!!??”
Thanks Remy.
they also want to force individuals and businesses to bake them cake
And the cosmos were defending this position, as I recall, by saying that its not fair to force people to do business with, say, black people, without also forcing them to do business with gay people. If a bad law has insufficient reach, they are all for expanding the reach of the bad law.
“equality” (as defined by their feelz) is their primary goal, and liberty falls somewhere way down the priority list.
The gay marriage debate was the biggest opportunity for libertarians to step in and be the sole adult voice in the room, and we had the foundation erode out from under us because the progtarians wanted to pal around with the left.
Umm, OK.
Oh no you di’ent!
https://hotair.com/archives/2017/12/13/report-omarosa-physically-dragged-escorted-off-white-house-grounds-fired-john-kelly/
I mean, seriously, are we living in some kind of weird reality show? If this is all an alien simulation- they are really fucking with us at this point
I read her bio.
I don’t get it.
“The hair had Donald pick up the gun and tuck it into his boxer short waistband. It promptly slid down his gunt and fell out one of the legs and onto the floor.
“Maybe you better carry that,” the hat said dryly.”
I can totally see that happening.
MS needs to fucking die. I want to bash in the heads of the Outlook development team every time I print an email. Hey oxygen thieves! You don’t need to blank the program and display a print preview. You can use this concept called a popup box and not block the original program!
I need more Dramamine for the constant motion sickness brought on by animations. Fuck them all with rusty chainsaws.
I thought we were doing chainsaw bayonets now.